


The proprosal/proposal.

by DaddyUncool



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Erin heckin' loves her, F/F, It's proposal time y'all, aggressively fluffy ending, mysterious title owing to drunk!erin, real in ur face fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 04:04:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14512149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaddyUncool/pseuds/DaddyUncool
Summary: The complete story of how Jillian Holtzmann and Erin Gilbert got engaged.





	The proprosal/proposal.

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this ages ago as a sequel to Fun Erin, but idk man. What if I write a better sequel? What if I want to write a sequel to this?? I can't make decisions! I have commitment issues!! You decide, fellow Holtzbert trash.
> 
> Also I hate proof reading so sorry if it's riddled with nonsense!!

Erin Gilbert was a woman with a plan. She always had been, you see, it was sort of her thing. She planned to get away from that blasted ghost, and away from her parents. She planned to become a scientist, a doctor, a physicist. But what she was beginning to wonder is that perhaps, if ghosts were real- a concept beyond the scope of general scientific understanding- what else might be real? What other complex and unproven, perhaps _unprovable,_ phenomena may exist?

 

Really, all of this _scientific agonizing_ was Erin Gilbert’s way of trying to understand if perhaps... fate existed. For all her planning, she could never have planned a life like the one she had stumbled into. It was perfect and wild and confusing, and did she mention perfect? She was a doctor who managed to scientifically confirm the existence of the paranormal, alongside a team of incredible women who helped her reach that potential. She could never have done it without them, she wouldn’t have even tried. In fact, they continued to help her realise her potential, as a scientist, as a person. And for someone like Erin, _Ghost Girl,_ to be successful in her field was one thing, but to be professionally successful _and_ have friends, _and_ have a girlfriend… _come on._

 

How could fate not be real? Erin was socially incompetent to say the least, and even if she had planned to wind up here, she couldn’t have done it.

 

Erin puzzled over this often, sometimes while she was scrawling across her gigantic whiteboard, sometimes when she couldn’t sleep. Sometimes when she watched Holtzmann make Abby dissolve into fits of laughter.

 

If fate was real, how could she ever make a solid decision again? If it wasn’t real, how could she let this concern prevent her from making the decision she wanted desperately to make? Was she supposed to sail through life, letting the winds of fate turn her in whatever direction she was supposed to go? Or did it mean that every decision she made was in fact fated?

 

More importantly, was this exact moment where fate had pointed her to?

 

Erin had made a career from the unknown. She had used it to buy her first house. It had brought her to meet her witty, incredible best friend, and her ridiculous, generous, bizarre and wonderful girlfriend. But here she was, dithering and unsure as always. Held back by the unknown.

 

It was ironic, she thought, how the unknown could be both her biggest fear and her best ally.

 

She huffed and shuffled from one foot to the other. She needed more time to think. She walked away from the glittering shopfront, leaving the perfect circles studded with diamonds behind her. The ultimate symbol of commitment. The goal, she had always thought.

 

When she arrived back to the lab, she immediately saw Jillian Holtzmann, all gorgeous and blonde and weird, sprawled on the floor, drinking an orange juice with a half eaten sandwich beside her.

 

“Why are you drinking that?” Erin fussed. And as a side note, Erin wasn’t usually one to swear, not even in her own mind, but gosh, she _fucking_ loved Jillian Holtzmann.

 

“It’s nutritious. It’s delicious. It’s… Mauritius…?” she squinted and scrunched her nose. Erin loved that weird and wonderful, funny brain of hers. Her lips quirked into a little smile.

 

“You know it’s too acidic. You won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Erin replied like the little goody-goody she was, always responsible, always sensible. Holtzmann leaned on her elbow, still holding the small carton. She sipped it, looking Erin dead in the eyes, challenging her. She had this smirk about those plump lips, all seductive and tempting. She quirked an eyebrow. Erin’s heart always ran a little fast ever since that first kiss, she thought, but it was still speeding up.

 

“Stop.” she whispered, blushing and grinning like a teenager at a Backstreet Boys concert or whatever kids liked these days. Maybe Jonas Brothers, she thought. She remembered hearing about them before.

 

Holtzmann just blew her a kiss with a playful wink and went back to laying on the floor, lost in thought, processing in her own funny sort of way. And Erin just wanted to marry her. She wanted to just… marry the heck out of her.

 

Marry the _fuck_ out of her, she thought bravely.

 

Erin thought about fate. She thought about the house she had bought without telling a soul. She thought about the day she had tricked Holtz into checking it out. She told her it was a bust and together they checked it for ghosts.

 

_“Nice place.” Holtz had said, looking around the gorgeous home Erin intended to buy. The natural light gave Holtzmann’s skin this dewy look. Erin thought about waking up with her every morning in the bedroom they were checking out. “It’s a bit new for ghosts, isn’t it?” she had frowned, looking down at her equipment. She was sure it was working, she wouldn’t have taken faulty tech to a bust, and she always tested it first. But there were no signs of any entities. The house looked way too new to be haunted._

 

_“Do you think you could ever live somewhere like this?” Erin ignored her question. Holtz looked up in response, taking it all in, looking with a different perspective._

 

_“Yeah. It’s the dream, isn’t it?” she shrugged, and Erin wanted to ask so much more, but she didn’t. But she did buy the house._

 

Erin wished she had asked those questions then. It had been a year, and they weren’t living together, and Erin knew they should do that before anything else, in case it turned out that Holtz hated her when she had to be with her like… all the time.

 

But the other part of her couldn’t wait. She was just… _so_ in love. And she wasn’t one to say things like that lightly.

 

“Holtz, do you ever think about moving out of the city?”

 

Holtz hummed in response, taking a moment to think it over. She crossed her legs, still laying on the floor, looking to the ceiling. Erin tried to ignore her girlfriend’s untied shoelaces. She didn’t want to be a nag. Oblivious to Erin’s tension, Holtzmann’s lips curled as she pictured a future outside of the city, and Erin just wanted so badly to know exactly what she was seeing. Just to pull up a seat in Holtzmann’s big, gorgeous brain and watch her imagination go to work.

 

“Definitely. Some mini mad scientists, a house in the suburbs. Maybe a cat or a dog or a chinchilla. Something fluffy, anyway. And I’ve always wanted to grow potatoes, you know?” Holtz’s smile had turned dreamy.

 

And that was the exact moment that Erin believed in fate. She hadn’t spent all of her childhood and then adult life pondering whether or not fate was real, and so she didn’t have the questions to answer, like she did with ghosts. She didn’t have evidence. But she didn’t have evidence of that first ghost either, only that she saw it. And her evidence that fate existed was lying on the floor with big old boots and a dream of a potato patch in the suburbs.

 

Holtzmann was the husband Erin had always wanted, only she wasn’t a _husband_ . But she was everything else. No one could have expected it, although when she really thought about it, it was so simple. _Of course_ Holtzmann was the perfect partner. She was reliable and brave, generous with _everything,_ from the exciting stuff (compliments and dates and orgasms), to the boring stuff (making dinner, paying for stuff, doing housework.) Erin hadn’t met her mother yet but when she did, she would thank her for bringing up such a beautiful soul.

 

“Don’t forget your sandwich,” Erin reminded her softly as she got up to return to her workspace.

 

“I won’t,” Holtz replied, her voice was far away like her mind. Erin had spent her whole life waiting for something as easy and simple as this.

 

~

 

Erin Gilbert had broken Abby Yates’ heart more than once. First when she abandoned her, _and_ their book baby ( _before it could even fly._ ) and then again when she swooped back into her life demanding that she remove the book baby from its online listing, like it meant nothing. Like _Abby_ meant nothing. So having Erin back in her life was something that Abby had to get used to slowly. She didn’t trust her, because as much as she loved Erin, Erin had a load of shitty flaws that made her weak and flaky, and mostly, susceptible to other people’s judgements. So it had taken a lot and a long time for Abby to fully trust Erin again. But slowly, it came, and one day she forgot to not trust Erin. At last, they were back to how they used to be, and Abby was more than just relieved, she was overjoyed to have resolved the issue that had eaten her up for so long. 

 

The third time Erin broke Abby’s heart was one year ago. Erin started dating Abby’s best friend, like it didn’t matter, like it was no one else’s business, and Abby _hated_ it. She hated Erin for it. Erin had walked out of her life, and it had taken her _years_ to find another person like her, to find someone as weird and trustworthy and open-minded as Holtzmann. And then Erin, selfish, cool, pretty, clever Erin had gone and made Holtzmann fall in love with her. And then Abby lost both of them at once, for a long time. Six months. She had Patty, but Patty didn’t know science like either of the others. She didn’t push the boundaries in the same way. She couldn’t have those same conversations where they dreamt up mad science and then made it happen. That science and those conversations and the whole _job,_ had become like home to Abby, and then all of a sudden it was gone. Once again, Erin _fucking_ Gilbert had left Abby with a gaping black hole in her life, and she was so wrapped up in her stupid fling that she didn’t even notice that Abby was fuming.

 

Eventually, though, they came out of their fog of gross sex and lovey dovey _shit_ and Holtzmann started actually working again. Erin started talking about real stuff. The two of them started to spend time apart and started to come back into the real world. Holtzmann went out for Chinese food with just Abby, and they talked all night just like they used to, like Holtz had missed her all this time. Erin started bringing her coffee in the mornings, with a selection of three mini pastries. Just because. And Abby realised that her friends weren’t abandoning her at all. They were… actually in love. Even after the sex fog had blown over and the honeymoon period had passed, Erin still lit up when Holtzmann walked into the room, Holtz still hit on her with cringey pick up lines, and Erin still blushed at them like an idiot.

 

Abby couldn’t be mad at that.

 

And one day, while Abby pottered around the lab testing her equipment as part of their rigorous safety regulations, Erin scuttled into the room.

 

“You look like one of those tiny ugly dogs that shake all the time. What’s wrong?”

 

“A chihuahua?” She blinked a few times. Abby was the bluntest person in the whole Universe, and not necessarily trying to insult her. Erin had to remind herself of that regularly.

 

“Ya, why are you all…” she mimicked Erin’s skittish body language instead of finishing the sentence. Erin took a deep breath.

 

“I want to ask Holtz to marry me.” It was the first time she had said it out loud. Her face flushed a dark red and a million insecurities tried to drown her at once. She felt stupid, like _Erin Gilbert_ getting married would be the stupidest thing in the world. But she tried to shake it off. Tried to remind herself that she was very grown up and way past the age that all of her college classmates had gotten married, though that just ignited another set of anxieties.

 

Abby’s mouth opened. Closed. Once. Twice.

 

“Ohmygodsaysomething.” Erin exploded, nerves splattering everywhere. But Abby was speechless.

 

“ _You_ want to propose? Like… you’re gonna do the whole…” she tried to mime opening a ring box, not very well.

 

“Is it weird?” She grimaced. “Should it be Holtz? Do you think she’ll hate it? Oh god, do you think she’ll say no?” Erin blabbered, nerves making her voice tremble.

 

Abby thought of Erin at 15, all skinny and long like a daddy long legs, even more nervous then than she was now. She could hardly believe it was the same girl. Baby Erin couldn’t even ask boys out and now she wanted to ask a _girl_ to be her _wife._

 

“No, no. Just, I am… so proud of you.” Abby eventually said, almost tearful. Abby always wore her heart on her sleeve, but usually her heart was angry about soup and things Erin had done a thousand years ago, and so that was the only thing that really came out. Erin dissolved into tears too.

 

“I love you so much.” She sobbed like a drunk girl to a stranger in a bathroom, and they both laughed through tears at their embarrassing moment. Neither of them would ever mention it again.

 

“You’re gonna be married!” Abby whispered, like she couldn’t believe it. She could believe in ghosts, and she could believe that one day her soup would have a decent ratio of wontons to broth despite years of evidence to the contrary. She could believe in almost anything, but she couldn’t believe any of them were getting ready to settle down.

 

“I just need her to say yes,” Erin laughed like it wasn’t her biggest fear in the world. Abby gave her a look like she was being stupid and it made her think that maybe Holtz _would_ say yes.

 

~

 

Erin didn’t just love to plan, she was the _best_ at it. She thought things through thoroughly, and as much as being spontaneous had won her the girl, she firmly believed that luck favoured the prepared.

 

“Baby,” Holtzmann purred one evening when it was just the two of them. She knew the blonde inside and out now, and she knew that this voice was her _let me rock your world_ voice. Erin’s fingers, suddenly anxious to touch and grab and drag orgasms from her girlfriend, just tightened around her fat board marker instead.

 

“I can’t tonight.” She said even though it was literally the hardest thing in the whole world. Behind her, Holtzmann looked deflated. Erin had been elsewhere, she knew it. Erin always had something on her mind, and Holtz wasn’t stupid. She had noticed the weird questions, the avoidance, the dwindling sexual interest.

 

Erin wanted more and she didn’t think Holtzmann could give it to her, she concluded sadly.

 

“Okay.” she conceded. “Um. Do you want any company tonight?” she sounded hopeful, and Erin felt _so_ guilty, but she couldn’t have Holtz around her apartment tonight. This mission was extremely delicate. Erin scrambled for an excuse, but she didn’t need to. “No worries.” Holtz said, like maybe she had lots of worries. “Have a good night. Don’t work too hard.” Holtzmann said instead of goodbye, but her voice was different.

 

The thing for Holtz is that she _really_ didn’t want this to end. She didn’t want Erin to want more unless she wanted it with her, because for all of her childish qualities, all of her terrible lab habits, her complete lack of concern for safety-- she thought she would be a very good partner. Especially for Erin. She thought they sort of balanced each other out.

 

She knew that Erin wanted kids, she knew she wanted to move out of the city, and she knew that Erin wanted domestic bliss. Holtzmann could give her those things. She would be a good parent, protective and fun, she would teach her kids how to live, how to explore, how to not lose their sense of self in a world that tries to squash it down. She would be just like her mother. She would suit the suburbs, with a garage to work on her projects, and to teach the kids how to fix a bike. They could build a gokart in there too. She would garden, grow vegetables, make nutritious meals for her family, because even though she had the diet of a young boy in his first year of college, she knew she couldn’t continue that when she had babies of her own. She would make a home office for Erin and DIY the shit out of it, get her a big old white board and a million markers. She’d bring Erin coffee and lunch. She could be everything Erin wanted, because it was already her dream too.

 

On the coffee table in Erin’s apartment sat a brand new notebook, extra slim lines, just waiting for Erin to arrive home and fill it with her plans to get Jillian Holtzmann to say yes. She couldn’t know that at the very same moment, Holtzmann sat on the edge of her unmade bed in a big t-shirt and a pair of loose boxers she loved to sleep in (they had cacti on them, Erin thought they were delicious). Her hair cascaded past her shoulders, and her eyebrows knitted together in concern. She stared at the wall opposite, her mind whirring and ticking, trying to figure out a plan of her own. A plan to show Erin that she was the kind of person Erin could count on for life. She wanted a potato patch, for god’s sake.

 

Erin fell asleep on her couch, notebook resting on her chest, all of her plans to make Holtzmann her wife close to her heart. Miles away, Holtzmann fell asleep feeling a tiny bit better.

 

~

 

“Step one.” Erin tapped on the whiteboard with her marker. Abby, to her credit, was taking it all very seriously. “The Holtzmother.” she said, underlining the word on the board. She was a bit proud of that. Abby rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

 

“You’re gonna ask her for permission?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Have you ever met her?”

 

“No.”

 

Abby pulled a face. “How are you gonna get her to say yes if she doesn’t know you? You might be a shitty girlfriend for all she knows.”

 

“I don’t know. I’m going to have to… show her how much I love her, I guess.” Abby resisted the urge to say something sarcastic. Instead she nodded, and made a note in her little book to give some thought to the matter later on; see if she could gain any intel on The Holtzmother, or come up with any ideas on how to please her.

 

“So. We have to find her mom’s address, plan a trip there, and prove your love enough for The Holtzmother to say yes.” Abby confirmed.

 

“Affirmative.”

 

And just like that, the plan began to form. Patty was drafted, who took care of the administrative side. She organised the address (Holtz’s next of kin in her files, simple), the time off work, and the transport (a suitably impressive rental car to show The Holtzmother that she was a worthy suitor, hopefully.

 

Abby focussed on getting details from Holtz.

 

“My mom’s just… a fuckin’ asshole.” Abby said one day out of the blue while the two of them were working side by side, and Erin nearly interjected, because Abby’s mom was the best. There was no mother kinder, she even used to bring them homemade lemonade in the summers when they would study in Abby’s big garden. But it worked, because Holtz snorted, and just like that, a conversation began to trickle between them. Erin listened, took note. She found out that Holtz’s mom was half French, loved to cook, which explained Holtz’s unexpected culinary talents, and that she was an artist.

So Erin began learning French. She bought a million books on art history. She read about classic French cookery, without ever attempting a recipe herself. The process took weeks, and Holtzmann began to worry more and more as she was left aside, excluded from the whispered conversations between her coworkers, and no longer invited to spend the night at Erin’s apartment. Some mornings she would arrive to find cardboard containers strewn around the whiteboard at work, which was wiped clean each night. She knew something was going on.

 

“Hey mom.” she mumbled into the phone at midday. Everyone had conveniently left for lunch, but she suspected it was another one of their secret meetings.

 

“What’s up my little lightning Holt?” her eccentric mother cooed down the phone, her smile audible and infectious, but Holtz wasn’t feeling it. She took a deep breath. She had to talk to someone, and no one was better to talk to than her mom.

 

“I think something’s going on. I think Erin might want to leave m-”

 

“Fuck her then.” her mother interrupted. “Don’t let her make you feel like you’re not good enough.” Where do you think Holtzmann got her protective streak from? Holtz sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

 

“No, mom, listen. I think... I think she thinks _I’m_ not serious, but I _am_. She’s…” Holtz ran her hand through her hair, making it all stick up and fluff out. She sunk onto a desk, boots squeaking against the floor as she did. “She’s the one, mom. She’s a good one. You need to meet her, you’ll know what I mean then. But that’s not the point. I need to know how to show her that I’m serious too.”

 

Holtzmann’s mother had heard her daughter say _she’s the one_ only twice before. Once when she was a teenager and her girlfriend’s dad got a promotion and moved them all to Dubai. She knew Jessica wasn’t the one, even if her heartbroken daughter didn’t. The next time she said it, Jillian was talking about her mentor, Dr. Gorin, but they both knew Dr. Gorin did not return Jillian’s feelings. It was a tough time. Jillian tried to run away from college. Dr. Gorin and her mother both scolded her, and that was the end of that.

 

But it had been a year, and nothing seemed _very_ wrong with this Erin girl, though they had never met so she couldn’t be sure. But right now, given the fact that her baby girl was worried that she wasn’t enough, she wasn’t too hot on this Erin.

 

Overall though, she supposed the relationship seemed quite healthy so far. There was no drama, no moving away, no running away, no nonsense. Her daughter had never called before to complain or vent about her new girlfriend. But she was a mom, and it was hard to like people who made her baby doubt herself.

 

“I think I need to meet this girl then.” her mom said kindly, and even though Holtz could hear the tightness in her voice, she appreciated her mom giving Erin a chance.

 

“I’ll bring her. You’ll like her.” she said quietly. “I’m serious, mom. I’d marry this girl.”

 

“You wanted to marry Jessica.”

 

“Erin is a million Jessicas.” she said seriously. Jillian’s mom chuckled.

 

“We’ll see. If she’s as amazing as you say, then you don’t need to worry. What do I always say?”

 

“Fate doesn’t care about plans.” she recited, echoing years of her mother’s unique attempt at comforting her. She supposed it was sort of like saying everything happens for a reason.

 

Holtzmann had to hang up moments later when the gang spilled back into the lab, very obviously having been out together.

 

Holtz’s mood soured immediately, her mom’s advice forgotten mere moments after she had given it. She stormed upstairs, not even looking at the girls. She kicked the door shut behind her and flipped the stereo on as she passed it. Al Green started crooning Let’s Stay Together and Holtz allowed herself a rare moment of sadness. She wasn’t one to feel defeated, after all, she was one of life’s overachievers. But a broken heart was the surest way to put her into a week-long depression, and a broken heart was exactly what she feared was hurtling towards her like a train on poorly engineered tracks.

 

“We have fucked up.” Abby said to the group matter-of-factly. It was possible that in their planning, they had forgotten about Holtz entirely. Erin climbed the stairs two at a time. She flung the door open, finding Holtzmann hanging around by the window like a thunderstorm trying to escape.

 

“Holtzy…” Erin put on her sweetest, _sorriest_ voice, expecting the storm to clap and spark back at her.

 

“What.” she said, all moody and defiant. It wasn’t like Holtz, so Erin knew she had really, really overlooked some important factors in this whole proposal thing. She crept up behind her girlfriend and snaked her arms around her waist. She let her chin rest on her shoulder, but gave it a little kiss first.

 

“I’ve upset you.” she stated. She knew she was bad at this kind of thing, but clearly, she didn’t realise how bad until now.

 

“You’re all just… being assholes.” she muttered like a petulant teenager. Erin nodded, but she still wasn’t _totally_ sure what she had done wrong. She just knew she had done something.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m… you know. Not the best at this stuff.”

 

“Erin, if you want to break up with me, I don’t want you to string me along.” Holtzmann sighed, irritated, insecure, upset, a million other things.

 

Erin _so_ nearly laughed. Oh god, it wasn’t even funny. She was so bad at this that her girlfriend thought she wanted to _leave her._ And all this time she had been worried that Holtzmann would catch on to her top secret plan.

 

“What made you think I want to break up with you?” she said quietly, squeezing her arms a little tighter around the petite engineer. “You’re my favourite.” she mumbled, all of her squishy middle coming out like a donut. Holtzmann pouted, but Erin knew she was getting close to earning a smile. And she knew just what to do. She forced her stubborn girlfriend to turn to face her and took her by the waist, swaying her to the new song that had just started playing. “Oooh baby I love your way… everyday…” she sang along to Holtz’s playlist, and at last, her beautiful girlfriend cracked a dimpled smile. Erin melted.

 

“You’re so weird.” Holtzmann shoved her shoulder, her cheeks going pink, her smile pulling at her lips even though she wanted to stay moody.

 

“I still can’t believe I can make you blush.” Erin’s smile broadened into a grin.

 

“Shut up.”

 

“I’m not leaving you, you dork.” she kissed the engineer’s nose before untangling them and beginning to walk away. “I’ve got things going on, you know. I’m going…” she turned dramatically. “ _Undercover.”_

 

“Wait, wha-”

 

“No questions.” she held a finger up sternly. “But I love you and I’m staying. You… sausage.” she gave her cheekiest grin before escaping. Holtzmann felt better, only now she had this brand new shiny puzzle. She had to figure out what Erin was up to. What this undercover business was. She strolled back to her large window, this time with her hands behind her back and her expression pensive.  

 

~

 

The time had come. Erin was travelling to meet her future mother in law for the first time ever, if all went to plan. Holtzmann had gotten moody when she wasn’t allowed to know where Erin was going or what she was going away for, but Erin was way too nervous to care. Three minutes after leaving the firehouse Erin received a text saying “I miss you” from Holtz. She smiled to herself, turned up the radio, and hit the road.

 

A few hours later, which went far too quickly for Erin’s liking, she was parked outside a big, fat white house with a blue door. It was beautiful, the kind of house Erin dreamed of owning. The lawn, however, had ten flamingos, five on each side of the path leading to the door. Erin thought it was such a Holtzmann thing, and it calmed her a little. She hoped Holtz’s mother was like Holtz herself. At least then she stood a fighting chance.

 

She knocked on the door using the large shiny door knocker, which was shaped like a woodpecker. She reminded herself to fight the urge to vomit. She couldn’t believe she was about to do this. A moment passed. Erin wanted to die. Her knobbly knees knocked together. She thought no one would answer, and the small part of herself that wanted to run away felt relieved. The determined part of herself began to curse herself for not planning for this eventuality. But as she was about to give up, the door opened and revealed another Holtzmann.

 

“Oh, wow.” Erin said stupidly to the stranger in the doorway.

 

“Erin.” she said; maybe it was mother’s intuition, or maybe Holtz had spoken about her before. “Come in.” she said, stepping aside to invite the younger woman inside.

 

They settled into a large sofa.

 

“What brings you here?” Mrs Holtzmann asked her as if she hadn’t totally intruded without invitation.

 

“I… wow. You know, I spent weeks learning to speak French, and learning about art and French cooking… and now I don’t know how to use any of that in conversation…” words were spilling from her lips faster than she could process. “Should I just start speaking French? Haha… I’m- gosh… I’m so stupid…”

 

Mrs Holtzmann looked on with very clear concern in her eyes.

 

“Are you okay, dear?”

 

“No.” Erin answered honestly. “No, I’m so terrified. You see, I’ve spent all this time trying to learn how to impress you, because you have no idea who I am, and I _need_ you to think I’m impressive. Because I’ve…” she twisted her fingers into knots over her knees. She had worn her favourite shirt, blue for trust and sincerity, and it had a great bowtie. The very same one she wore to apologise to Holtz a year ago for kissing her. She adjusted the tiny bowtie.

 

“Gosh that’s a little bowtie, isn’t it?” Holtzmann’s mother murmured as she watched Erin’s nervy fingers fiddle.

 

“That’s one of the first things Holtz… Jillian, sorry… ever said to me. You look just like her. Or she looks just like you, I suppose.” Erin looked at this eccentric, gorgeous blonde, with her paint-spattered jeans just like Holtz’s oil-spotted ones. They had the same smile, the same dimples. Her mom’s smile softened, like maybe Erin wasn’t so bad after all. It gave Erin the little bit of courage she needed, even if only for a second. A second was all she needed. “I love her so much, Mrs. Holtzmann. I know you don’t know me, but there is nothing in the world I want more than to show you that I would be a really, really good person for your daughter to spend her life with, if she would have me.”

 

The woman faltered. Erin panicked. She started to blabber.

 

“I know, it’s soon, and I’m a stranger asking for permission to marry your daughter, who is… perfect and strange and wonderful and she’s just… everything that’s good in the world, isn’t she? She’s creative and kind and inventive, and just… yeah. Oh, I’m just talking so much, aren’t I?” she ran her hands over her face. It was sweaty. Or maybe her hands were sweaty. Something was sweaty. “I hired a really expensive car so you’d think I can provide for her, but actually I drive a Prius because I care about the environment, and I can’t pull off the hearse like Holtz can. And I know she can provide for herself, but I think you should know that I have a good job and I am a financially responsible homeowner, and I would always look after her. She’s a better cook than I am, but I’ve been studying classic French cuisine so I can do the housewifey stuff as well. I’m not very domestic, really, but I’m so tidy and I’m… I’m a good person, I think. I think you’d like me if you got to know me.”

 

Silence fell between them at last. Erin felt like she hadn’t taken a breath in at least seven years. The older woman worried her eyebrows, just like Holtz did.

 

“You… want to ask Jillie to marry you?”

 

“More than anything.”

 

“She said you didn’t think she was settling down material.”

 

“Well she’s obviously wrong!” Erin scoffed before realising who she was talking to. “I’m sorry. Or should I say _Je suis désolé._ ” she chuckled nervously.

 

“You probably shouldn’t.”

 

“Oh.” silence hung between them for a moment longer, but Erin was going to die if she didn’t get an answer soon. This was harder than she expected. She sort of thought she’d show up with her good blue shirt and her shiny silver car, rattle out a bit of French, and Holtz’s mother would fall head over heels and say yes immediately. But clearly, Holtz’s mom was a protective lioness who wanted the absolute best for her daughter. “So…” she cleared her throat. “About the whole… permission thing.” she tapped her fingers on her bony knees; a nervous tic. Holtzmann’s mother sighed. She remembered Jillian at four years old, wild curls, wild girl. She almost didn’t want her baby to get married. But it wasn’t her choice to make, and the nervous scientist appeared to care for her daughter a great deal. Enough to learn French terribly.

 

“You have my permission, Erin.” she said after what felt like a lifetime. Erin’s features dissolved into relief, her head falling and her tense shoulders dropping from where they had hung around her ears. She didn’t realise how tense she was until she felt the pain of her muscles trying to relax.

 

“Oh my god, thank you so much. Merci. Merci beacoup.” she babbled. Holtzmann’s mother, cooler than Erin by a million percent, cringed watching this strange woman. Though she supposed there was something endearing about her. It might have been that funny little bowtie.

 

“Really, your French is very bad.” she tried to say constructively, and Erin just laughed, almost manically high from her relief and excitement.

 

“I’m going to ask her. I’m going to do it! I’m going to go buy the ring! Thank you! Merci!!” she grabbed her belongings and made toward the exit, followed hesitantly by Mrs. Holtzmann.

 

“I’m holding you to that promise!” she called out as Erin pranced to the car, all shaky and excited. She looked like one of those shaky little dogs, Holtz’s mom thought. “Look after my lightning bug!”

 

“That’s so cute, Mrs. Holtzmann!” Erin shouted back from the car. “See you at Christmas!!” she grinned before speeding away.

 

~

 

“Stage two.” Erin said, drunk, celebrating. “RING-A-DING-DING!” she pounded another shot and climbed onto the table. It was 6pm on a Thursday, and the only way it could have been worse is if it was 5pm on a Wednesday, probably. “I’M GONNA PROPROSE. PROPROSE. PROP-” she hiccupped, swayed on the table. Patty and Abby’s arms both jerked out to catch their unsteady friend.

 

“This is some embarrassing shit.” Patty muttered. Abby pulled out her phone and started to film her. She’d probably get a really great opportunity to use this for the wedding.

 

“PROPOSE.” she finally got it out and threw her arms up in the air. “WOOOO!”

 

“Lady, get down.” a big, bald barman said with authority.

 

“NO I’M GOING TO PROPROSE!”

 

He turned his attention to Abby and Patty instead. “Take her home. She’s not fit to be in a bar.”

 

“What a douche.” Abby groused.

 

“Not wrong though.” Patty pulled a face. Abby couldn’t disagree.

 

“Fine. Let’s get her home.”

 

They could not get her home, but they did manage to get her to Holtzmann’s building, where she buzzed and buzzed and buzzed until Holtzmann answered, all of 35 seconds after the first buzz.

 

“Why are you drunk at this time?” Holtz frowned, worried, confused, too tired to deal. She had been working nonstop on a faulty pistol; she really didn’t want it to die, it was special to her. She was exhausted, and tonight was the first time in two days that she had gone home. She had planned to get into something comfy and watch a documentary about penguins with a fresh tube of Pringles and a 2 litre carton of apple juice. Not orange, because Erin was right.

 

Erin was in the best mood. She threw her arms around her girlfriend and kissed her, a little sloppy from the drink, but Holtz kinda loved it anyway. She kinda loved Erin when she was drunk.

 

“You have no idea…” she hiccupped. She bumped her head into Holtz’s. “NO idea. How much I love you.” she poked Holtz’s chest. “I freaking-- no I…” she stumbled and giggled. “I _fucking_ love you.” she whispered the F word like she might get caught and scolded for it. Holtz couldn’t help but laugh. Erin was a pain in the ass sometimes, but God, she was cute.

 

“You’re a nightmare.” Holtz sighed affectionately. “Let me make you something to eat, and then I’m putting you to bed.”

 

“Oh yeah…” she tried _really_ hard to wink, and Holtz really appreciated the effort. “Put me to bed like I’m a naughty… like. Dog? No. That’s the dog house thing...” she lost it. If she ever really had it. She burst out laughing and Holtz humoured her.

 

“Oh, baby. You tried your best.” she kissed her forehead. “Go sit down.” she gave her ass a smack to get her started in the direction of the couch, and then got started on making Erin something that would prevent a hangover, if she was lucky.

 

Erin ate it gratefully. She was one of those people who could clear out a Chinese buffet after a couple of drinks. Holtz fetched her a big, comfy t-shirt, a glass of water, and some painkillers.

 

“You’re so good to me, Holtzy.” she mumbled a while later, starting to sober up, starting to get sleepy. Erin had her head in Holtz’s lap where the engineer’s fingers played with her hair sweetly, knowing it was a surefire way to get Erin to doze off.

 

“Shhh,” she whispered, love pouring from her fingertips as they drew Erin to sleep. “Close your eyes.” She let her sleep there for an hour and a half while she finally got to watch her penguin documentary. It was perfect, sitting there eating Pringles with her girlfriend snoozing on her lap, good TV. What more could a girl want?

 

When the documentary wrapped up and Holtz had nearly cried twice, she woke Erin gently.

 

“Baby,” she stroked her hair softly, and it was just enough movement to rouse Erin from her drunken snooze.

 

“Mm.” Erin grunted.

 

“Bedtime.” Holtz whispered, easing her up. Erin stumbled to the bedroom with her eyes half closed still and passed out immediately. Holtz stretched out before going to the bathroom to ready herself for bed. And when Erin awoke it was with no hangover, and she was extremely grateful for it.

 

She left a couple of hours later with a goal. This time next week she would be ready to propose.

 

~

 

Friday, mid morning. The sun was shining. Erin went to the same shop she had been eyeing for weeks, if not months. The ring was there in the window, shining back at her. She had looked at millions of rings, she thought. She had spent hours researching things about rings; meanings, cuts, shapes, colours. She had even started actually venturing inside the big shiny stores with actual men on the doors in suits, like… ready to chase her if she tried to steal a bag of diamonds.

 

All of her research meant nothing because she kept coming back to the same ring. Small, subtle, classy. Erin didn’t think Holtz was a big diamond kinda girl, and she knew she wouldn’t like to wear an engagement ring in the lab or on busts. But lots of people couldn’t wear engagement rings to work. Chefs, baristas, nurses, doctors, factory-workers, carpenters, and loads more probably. It didn’t mean people didn’t give them diamond rings, it just meant they didn’t wear them to work. So she thought she absolutely had no excuse not to get her something beautiful to accompany her offer of a lifetime commitment.

 

She had looked at a million rings. But she had never been brave enough to go inside and look at this one. If she thought about it, like _really_ thought about it, it’s because she knew that once she got this ring in her hands, she wouldn’t want to give it back. She’d buy it, and she would ask Holtz the big question, and all this planning, all this build up, would be over. The only thing left would be Holtzmann’s answer. That terrified her.

 

She went inside, adrenaline coursing through every inch of her body. Her fingers were vibrating with nervous energy.

 

There was no other ring. It was the only one. It was _the_ one. _The_ ring, for _the_ girl.

 

Erin left the store with it in her bag, clutched close to her, afraid to be responsible for anything so precious.

 

~

 

Saturday morning broke. Erin hadn’t been able to work the rest of the day after buying the ring, and so she was relieved for the weekend. Holtzmann stopped by her apartment with daisies and coffee-- not the takeout kind, the freshly ground from their favourite coffee shop kind, ready to be brewed at home. Erin loved their Saturday morning routine.

 

“You’re jumpy today,” Holtz noticed with some concern.

 

“Am I?” her voice was too high, she was never a good liar.

 

“Yeah, you’re all shaky like one of those chihuahuas. Have you already had coffee?” she frowned. Erin never usually had coffee before their Saturday morning coffee. Sometimes a green tea if she woke early enough.

 

“No! No, I’m fine.” she dismissed. “Anyway.” Erin put her cup down, and took Holtzmann’s from her hands to place it next to her own. She filled the empty hands with herself, letting her body enter her girlfriend’s space. “I’ve missed you. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” Holtz melted, always, when her girlfriend’s voice got a little lower like that. She swallowed, and Erin smirked. “You swallowed.”

 

“Shut up.” she could _never_ stop her lips from pulling into a silly, shy smile when Erin called her out on her involuntary responses.

 

Erin wanted to ask her right then, in this perfect moment. But Erin, even a year on, still struggled to be spontaneous. She had a perfectly good plan, and to deviate would be irresponsible, wouldn’t it? Of course it would.

 

“What’s on your mind?” Holtz pulled her from her thoughts.

 

“You.” she answered coolly. “Your hair,” she twirled a long blonde curl between her fingers. She felt lucky to be one of the few people who got to see Holtzmann with her hair down. “Your lips,” her eyes lingered on them, and Holtzmann’s tongue peeked out to wet them. Erin always did that to her. It made her feel powerful, being able to elicit these reactions from someone like Holtzmann.

 

“Dr. Gilbert… are you flirting with me?” Holtzmann smirked, letting her hands snake to Erin’s waist.

 

“I sure am.” she caught her lips in a kiss, deep and searing, and it had been way too long since she’d had her girlfriend like this. No wonder Holtz had been so moody, she thought smugly.

 

“Bedroom?” Holtz breathed as their kiss became more frantic.

 

Well, actually, Erin could be spontaneous sometimes.

 

“Kitchen. Here.”

 

“God, you’re cool.” Holtz almost groaned, and Erin felt it. She always felt cool when she had Holtzmann’s hips arching towards her, begging for more. When those gorgeous pink lips blushed just half a shade darker, and her breath became a little ragged.

 

Holtzmann fell apart for Erin every time, but especially when Erin was on her knees with Holtz’s leg hooked over her shoulder. Holtz scrambled for a surface to hold her up as Erin’s tongue worked _magic._ Literal magic, Holtzmann thought. Erin had always been good at this, but such was her observant and studious nature, she had evolved sexually, become more efficient, more effective, and Holtz could barely keep herself together. It was almost embarrassing, how quickly Erin could make her come.

 

When Erin slid her fingers inside at the _exact_ right moment, Holtz came, long, deep, toe-curling, breath-stealing. Her voice was stolen, and she cried out breathlessly, eyes tight, one hand in Erin’s hair, the other hand in her own. Erin’s one free hand held her girlfriend’s- _future wife’s_ hips steady, giving her no relief from the onslaught of pleasure, dragging her orgasm out for as long as she possibly could.

 

It was only moments later that Holtz let herself slide to the cool kitchen floor.

 

“Holy fuck.”

 

Erin held her close and kissed her sweaty temple.

 

“You’re so fast.”

 

“ _You’re_ so fast.” Erin quipped proudly and Holtzmann blushed, _hard_. It was hardly her fault that Erin was an absolute sex goddess.

 

~

 

Sunday was Erin’s day just to herself. She did her laundry, a bit of cleaning, grocery shopping, pampered herself. Sundays were her treat from herself to herself, and she cherished every moment. No one bothered her on a Sunday. She took this time to make her final plans, because by Thursday, if everything went to plan, she would be proposing.

 

She was, of course, going to take Holtz out for dinner. They had to eat, even if it was Proposal Day, so it had to be a good meal, she figured. She made those reservations early. The next part wouldn’t be so easy.

 

The week sped by. She spent all of Monday scouting locations. Where, how, where. _Where?_ She agonized over this question for months. She thought about returning to where they had first met, but the Dean was such an asshole, she didn’t really want to. She thought about the firehouse, but god, they already spent their whole lives there. A restaurant was too cheesy, Holtz would hate it. Outdoors didn’t seem special enough; they lived here, they took it for granted. NYC wasn’t what it was to visitors and tourists to them anymore. Erin didn’t want to propose someplace they would walk past every day. It had to be special.

 

She considered her own apartment, or even Holtzmann’s, but she didn’t want to _never_ be able to visit the location again. Eventually they would move out of these places and new people would occupy them. They’d never be able to revisit the moment.

 

And then it hit her.

 

Tuesday she recruited Patty and Abby to help her prepare the house.

 

Wednesday she bought herself a new dress and heels. She, Abby and Patty shared two large pizzas between them and a few bottles of wine as they put the finishing touches to the house. At around 1AM they all sat on the floor, wine glasses nearly empty, pizza stale. They all stared into the tiny box. It was so small, heart-shaped, black velvet, vintage. The ring had history, had love. The box was the original. Everyone looked at it in awe.

 

“Damn, I think _I’m_ about to say yes.” Patty commented, touching the delicate ring gently. Abby smiled down at the little thing.

 

“This is really happening.” she said.

 

“It is.” Erin replied, butterflies and bubbles of happiness fizzling away inside her.

 

Thursday came. An exact week since she had drunkenly stood on a table until the barman told her to leave. She was going to _proprose_ , after all, she thought with a small chuckle to herself.

 

Erin had collected Holtz in a taxi and they zoomed off.

 

“You look… wow.” Holtz had practically salivated when she saw Erin’s black figure-hugging dress and heels. Holtz didn’t know much about shoes or anything, but she knew if they had a red sole it meant they were fancy. Erin had gone all out. It made her feel all fluttery in her stomach, but she couldn’t exactly place why.

 

“You look very wow yourself,” Erin said with this look in her eyes that Holtz wasn’t familiar with. It was good, it was love, she could identify that much. But the rest was beyond her.

 

“I know you like this.” Holtz smiled to herself. Dressing to impress her girlfriend was not something she had ever done before Erin, she had never really cared enough to. But Erin was a fan of a woman in a suit, it turned out. Especially when Holtz had her hair tumbling down all soft and blonde and angelic.

 

“I like you.” she replied softly, giving her a little smile before looking out the window. Her heart was hammering in her chest enough to make her feel ill. She could throw up at any second.

 

They arrived at the restaurant and Erin could hardly eat.

 

“This is _amazing._ ” Holtz groaned her appreciation as she cut into a buttery-soft steak. The restaurant was tiny and beautiful, old, run by an old Italian woman who shouted a lot. “Aren’t you hungry?” Holtz pointed her knife at Erin’s hardly-touched food.

 

“Oh, yeah, I’m just… enjoying the company, I guess.” she said, punctuating the sentence with a little bite of her lip. In less than an hour she could be engaged. In less than an hour, Jillian Holtzmann might agree to be her wife. Forever. Like… _forever._ Holtzmann winked at her.

 

“Smooth, Gilbert.”

 

They shared dessert. They shared a bottle of wine after. And Erin’s nerves wouldn’t go away.

 

“I want to show you something.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Holtz waggled her eyebrows, making Erin laugh despite her panic.

 

“Not _that._ Well… maybe that later.” they shared a giddy smile. Erin hailed a taxi, and it almost _screeched_ to a stop.

 

“That’s how gorgeous you look tonight.” Holtz chuckled as she opened the door for Erin. The whole journey Holtz harassed her for clues about where they were going, but Erin refused to tell her.

 

“We’re going out of the City?” she frowned. Erin didn’t reply. She fiddled with in her purse, checking the tiny black box was still there.

 

They arrived on a quiet, clean street. Holtz could smell the grass. It looked a little bit like her mom’s house.

 

“Isn’t this that ghost house with no ghost? Are we on a bust?” she wasn’t getting it, and Erin was sort of relieved. It was extremely, extremely difficult to surprise someone as razor sharp as Jillian Holtzmann. Somehow, she had succeeded.

 

“No, we’re not.” she walked up to the house.

 

“Hey…” Holtz frowned as she noted the five fake flamingos on either side of the path. She followed, utterly confused, waiting for the puzzle to become clear, but she couldn’t fit the pieces together. “What are we…” she trailed off when Erin pushed a key into the lock and opened the door. More puzzle pieces, and less of a picture.

 

Erin stepped aside letting Holtzmann walk into the house. Apprehensively, Holtzmann entered the foreign home only to be greeted by lots of flickering candles and flowers (the logistics of which were extremely difficult to arrange, but that was a story for another time.)

 

She still didn’t get it.

 

“Is this an AirBnB…” she turned back around and found Erin standing nervously with her hands clasped in front of her.

 

“No. This is… well, it’s ours. I bought it when you told me it was the dream. And here…” she walked her through the enormous house to the back door, where she flipped a switch to illuminate the garden just enough to reveal her favourite part of the house. “Here is your potato patch.”

 

Holtz stood silently, mouth hanging open in surprise and confusion. Behind her eyes, Erin could see her brain racing to catch up. She turned back from the garden, looking around the open kitchen. A photo of the two of them was perched on a shelf next to their favourite wine. There was a coffee machine with their favourite coffee shop’s signature roast sitting beside it. Erin opened a cupboard to reveal six tubes of Pringles standing proudly in lieu of any real groceries.

 

Erin took her silent girlfriend on a tour of the house, showing her where their children would sleep, where they would slam their doors in their teens, where they would figure out what they wanted to do in college. She showed her where she thought they could draw a little height chart for the kids.

 

She showed her to the bathroom, where she promised to wash Holtz’s hair if she got slimed, even though they both knew Erin was the real slime magnet. Holtz even had a t-shirt made for her that read _EG stands for EctoGasm_ which she wore under her overalls on any busts.

 

She showed her to the guest bedroom, where her mom could stay when she wanted to visit the grandkids, or if she got lonely, or if she just wanted a weekend away. Erin had already put an easel there, and all of those French cookery books she had bought. Holtz’s cheeks were flushed with emotion. Her jaw was tense.

 

She showed her the bedroom she had reserved just for them, with beautiful windows that overlooked the street below, where their children would play with the neighbours. Where they would fight in whispers so the kids didn’t hear them. Where they would make up. Where they would fall in love all over again every single night.

 

She showed her the living room, where they would have movie nights and Erin would learn to make popcorn properly especially for it. She showed her where they would eat their dinner, where their family would grow and expand, where their kids would fight, where they would spend their Thanksgivings and Christmases.

 

She showed her the garage, where she had installed a shoddy workbench in the back which Holtz would definitely have to fix. She had put up pegboard along a wall where Holtz could hang her tools. There was a mini fridge, with apple juice, not orange juice, and more Pringles geniusly suspended from the pegboard.

 

Holtz was overwhelmed.

 

“What do you think of it?” she asked softly, nerves present, as they stood in the backyard overlooking the potato patch once again.

 

“It’s gorgeous.” she said, and it would have all felt very clear, except for one thing.

 

The flamingos.

 

Holtzmann would have assumed this was Erin’s huge romantic way of asking her to move in. She might have even thought Erin was asking to have kids, from the way she described the future they could have in this home.

 

But the flamingos.

 

“The flamingos.” she said, unable to fit this final piece that would unlock the entire mystery. Erin’s lips quirked into a smile.

 

“The flamingos.”

 

“Did you put them there?”

 

“I did.” Holtzmann wanted to _explode._ Erin was making her work for it.

 

“But… how-- no, why? What made you…” she didn’t even know what to ask.

 

“I went to see your mom.”

 

Holtzmann’s mind raced but her heart was faster.

 

“I don’t know if you believe in fate…”

 

“I do,” good omen, Erin thought.

 

“But being with you… I can’t believe that fate hasn’t brought us together. I can’t believe that we aren’t fated, or that we aren’t… soulmates.” Erin didn’t feel any sense of calm like she thought she would.

 

“Erin…” Holtzmann bit her bottom lip. She must have been starting to get an idea.

 

“I went to see your mom to impress her, really. To make her think that I was worthy of you. It was a stupid idea, she told me the French I had learned was very bad.” Erin laughed, looking down at her feet. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Holtz was smiling but her eyes were glistening. “But she did give me permission to ask you the thing I’ve been waiting to ask for a really long time now.”

 

Erin couldn’t really get to her knee, not with how tight her dress was. She retrieved the little velvet box from her purse and put the purse aside. Holtzmann’s hand lept to cover her mouth. Erin had pictured doing this a million times, but she could never figure out how Holtzmann would react.

 

“I want to spend my life with you. I want to share your life, your successes, your failures, your good times, your sad times. I want to always keep the house stocked with Pringles and to tell you off when you drink orange juice. I want to run to the shop at 11PM to get you medicine when you can’t sleep because of it.” tears fell down Holtz’s cheek, but Erin, to her surprise, stayed dry-eyed.

 

“I will be your DIY helper, I’ll always do up the top button of your shirts when you struggle. I’ll keep learning French until your mom thinks I’m good.”

 

“Erin,” Holtz started to laugh tearfully. “Are you going to ask me?”

 

“Oh. Yes.” she laughed nervously. Deep breath, Erin. You’re about to be engaged. “Jillian Holtzmann,” she opened the little box and presented the ring to her girlfriend. “Will you marry me?”

 

“Yes.” she grinned, not even looking at the ring. She pulled her _fianc_ _é_ _e_ into a huge, smiley kiss.

 

“Wait, wait, you haven’t even--” she laughed against Holtzmann’s lips. “You haven’t looked at the ring!!” she batted her away to be able to take the ring from its little box. “Let me put it on you.” Erin knew it would fit, because come on, she was Erin Gilbert. But she wanted to know that Holtz liked it. Holtz, not necessarily a materialistic person, wasn’t one to ooh and aah at shiny metal unless she could repurpose it into a sort of weapon, usually. But this little thing on her ringer, it was her lifetime pass to Erin Gilbert’s heart, and that made it a pretty amazing piece of metal.

 

“It’s super beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, holding her hand out and looking at the ring there sparkling right back at her. She already couldn’t wait to trade it out for a wedding ring.

 

“You’re super beautiful.”

 

“ _You’re_ super beautiful.”

 

And at last, Erin had done it.

 

~

 

_Six years later._

 

Erin Gilbert was possibly the happiest woman on Earth, though her wife said she had some hot competition for that title, given that Jillian Holtzmann thought _she_ was actually the happiest woman on Earth.

 

They lived in that same house, and Erin figured they might always live there. Holtzmann maintained a very successful seasonal vegetable garden, not just potatoes anymore. Their daughter was a whizzkid who loved _everything._ Especially the vegetable patch. She looked just like Holtzmann, with her beautiful blonde curls and big blue eyes, but she was artistic like her grandmother. Every Halloween she dressed up as a Ghostbuster. Every Halloween she and Holtzmann made a big bucket of slime and hid somewhere in the house to throw it over Erin. One time Erin tried to recruit her and turn the tables on Holtz, but it turned out her sneaky daughter was a double agent and so she _still_ got slimed by the pair.

 

Erin never really did learn how to make popcorn, or how to cook anything else. But she did learn how to kiss ouchies better. Holtzmann learned how to take lab safety seriously once their daughter was born, and had even been caught lecturing students on the importance of safety lights once.

 

They learned how to take time off every once in a while, and they even started taking a vacation once a year with the little one. They grew their family. Erin didn’t make up with her parents, and Holtz didn’t make up with her dad, but the Holtzmother was more than enough family for all of them. She stayed frequently, she baked for the kids, she even baked when Erin wanted to look like one of those superstar moms at school bake sales. She taught their little girl French. She started to really love Erin.

 

The competition for happiest woman in the world title was tough, but Erin still thought she was winning.

**Author's Note:**

> Bye!


End file.
